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know.”  Lance shrugs, clearly enjoying having one up on her.  “It’s not like you’ve been all that interested in what I do with my time recently.”  His tone is accusatory, and Elyse spares a thought for how loose his grasp is on reality.
     
    “Besides, you’re not the only one that can get a job at the local newspaper. It’s not exactly The Wall Street Journal .”  He snorts dismissively.
     
    “If you think so little of it, then why even bother working there?  With your family’s influence, I’m sure you could get an internship at one of the nationals without any problem.”  Elyse watches as he goes red under his tan.  She’s hit a nerve—just as she had intended to.
     
    “I don’t need them to help me, Elyse.  I can do it on my own.  They never thought that I could, but I’ll show them, and I’ll show you, too.”  His expression is heated, and Elyse watches as his breathing gets shallower.  “When the story about the Demon Riders breaks with my byline, I’ll be able to walk onto any national newspaper that I want.  It’s my ticket to the big time.” 
     
    The intensity in Lance’s gaze is stifling.  And although Elyse knows that she had seen the exposé in the same way, as her gateway to something bigger, Lance is purely focused on himself, on making the point that he can get ahead without using his family name or their money.  Gaining a position on a national newspaper seems almost like an aside to him.  All he wants is to prove a point.
     
    “You can’t write it, Lance.  It’s not right.”  Elyse shakes her head, leaning closer to him to make sure that they’re not overheard.  Having this conversation in the middle of the bar, in full view of the majority of the Demon Riders MC, is potentially the worst idea she’s had in a long time. However, there’s no way around it now.  “If you expose their secrets, the Feds are going to come down so hard on them they won’t have a chance.  It’ll destroy the club.”
     
    Lance just shrugs, looking like he could care less.  “It’s a big story, the more fallout the better—the bigger the splash it’ll make.”
     
    “This isn’t a game, Lance.  They’ll go to prison!”  Elyse has to work to keep her volume under control.
     
    “After the way he just treated you, Elyse, why do you even care?”  Lance looks at her as if she were mad.
     
    “This isn’t just about, Dane.”  Elyse grinds her teeth knowing that what she’s saying isn’t completely true.  She’d started to have second thoughts about writing the article when she’d gotten to know Dane, but he hadn’t been the only reason.  “They’re a family, Lance, a brotherhood.  These are good people.”
     
    “Good people who just happen to be gun runners?”  Lance frowns at her, as if she’s completely missing the point.  “The people of Portland have a right to know about what’s going on in their back yard!”
     
    Elyse doesn’t bother to hide the skepticism on her face.  “Since when are you worried about the ‘people of Portland’?  You hate this city; you think it’s small town; you’ve told me that any number of times.  You don’t care about the people here; all you care about is getting your name on a big story and to hell with everyone else.”
     
    Lance regards her quietly, looking at her approvingly, as if she’s just passed some sort of test.  “Not everyone else, Elyse.  There’s one person that I care about very deeply.”
     
    Elyse feels her skin crawl, as if spiders were running up and down underneath it.  “If you care about me then tell MacIntyre you won’t write the article.”  Even as she says it, she knows how pathetic her words sound.
     
    “I can’t do that, Elyse.”  Lance shrugs as if it were completely out of his hands.  “I gave him my word that I would deliver him the scoop that he’s asked me for.  The Gazette needs this piece, without it the paper will probably fold…all those